Chapter 60 60
Aurélie POV
“Fine.”
I nod once, my approval directed squarely at Théo.
“I expect you and Lucas to work together,” I add, deliberately pushing my aura toward Lucas just enough pressure to make the expectation unmistakable.
If I weren’t so desperate to have Dominique back, I wouldn’t allow Théo anywhere near this danger. His mate was pregnant; the stress alone could ripple through their bond. And beyond the threat of whoever was holding my son, there was the quiet, gnawing fear that Lucas might turn on him.
“I’ll prepare some medical packs,” Fabrice offers calmly. “In case you both run into trouble.”
“Really?” Damien scoffs, disbelief etched into his voice as though the idea of Fabrice being genuinely good still offended him.
“With your permission to access the medical centre,” Fabrice replies evenly, adjusting his glasses as he looks to Damien.
“Lucas can escort you.”
They leave together, Fabrice casting a brief, uneasy glance back at me before the door closes.
“I need to return to my pack,” I sigh, turning toward the courtyard where my warriors remain assembled, waiting for orders.
“It’s best you stay here,” Damien says flatly, leaning back against his desk. His arms and legs cross as his gaze tracks my every movement. “That way we can act immediately when news comes in.”
“I have females due any day,” I counter. “They’ll need Fabrice’s expertise.”
There are also females from alliance packs nearing term but Damien doesn’t need to know that.
“Then Fabrice can go,” he shrugs. “And you can stay.”
I roll my eyes at his infuriatingly simple solution.
“What are you two incapable of being apart?” His hands fling into the air in frustration.
“Damien,” I snap, reminding him sharply that I am no longer beneath him. “I am your equal. And I have responsibilities.”
His gaze narrows. “You don’t trust me?”
“Should I?” I shoot back, matching his tone without hesitation.
“If I wanted you dead, Aurélie,” he says evenly, “I wouldn’t have rushed you to Maurice’s hospital.”
He isn’t wrong.
“Rushed?” I arch a brow, unable to stop myself. “So… you were concerned?”
My presence is clearly getting under his skin.
“A dead alpha,” he mutters, “with another alpha, on a third alpha’s land, without permission wouldn’t have reflected well on me.”
He seems to trip over his own reasoning.
“Oh, right,” I say coolly as I step past him, arms crossing. “I forgot. Everything’s about appearances with you.”
Why does he always do this act like emotion is a weakness?
His hand closes gently around my elbow before he straightens fully. His body eclipses mine, heat and power surrounding me. I gasp softly as tingles race up my arm from the point of contact.
“I was concerned,” he says quietly.
His voice isn’t his own it belongs to his wolf. His eyes darken to a stormy blue before snapping back to their familiar sea-glass clarity.
“I need my pack protected,” I say firmly, forcing myself to breathe through my mouth, limiting how much of his scent I take in. “My visit was never meant to be overnight. My pack is vulnerable without me.”
“Stay,” he says simply. “I want to know my daughter. And if news comes in, we can act instantly instead of relaying messages back and forth. Fabrice is your beta he can defend your lands.”
“Fabrice will stay here,” I reply without hesitation. “He needs to bond with Florence.”
“Then let me send some of my warriors to your pack,” he offers. “Just to ease your mind while you’re here.”
My brows knit together. “Why would you do that?”
“Like I keep telling you, sweetheart,” he says lightly, “I’m not the monster you think I am.”
“Damien…”
The words trail off. I’m not even sure what I wanted to say.
“This looks cozy.”
Geneviève’s shrill voice cuts into the moment, thick with mockery as her gaze flicks between us.
“Are you leaving?” she asks pointedly. “Your warriors seem ready.”
“No,” Damien answers for me. “She’s staying.”
“I’ll stay in a pack house with my warriors,” I say coolly. “Delphine and I wouldn’t want to be in the way.”
“Nonsense!”
“Well, actually,” Geneviève pouts, clinging to Damien’s arm, “I was hoping for a romantic movie night tonight, Damien?”
His attention shifts to her so I take my opportunity and slip from the office, suddenly curious just how much damage Delphine has managed to do in the kitchen.
It’s nearly 11 p.m. now.
Théo and Lucas left two hours ago, taking advantage of the darkness for cover. Damien granted me privacy in his office to check pack correspondence and contact the Darkvale alliance alphas, warning them to raise alert levels during my extended absence.
I declined Damien’s offer to station Bloodnight warriors on my lands. A cheetah doesn’t change its spots and there are memories I still can’t bury.
I sent fifteen of my warriors home, keeping five with me, along with Fabrice and Miss Lambert.
Damien hadn’t said it gently but he was right. If he wanted me dead, he would have left me bleeding on that warehouse floor.
Delphine went to bed at eight. I asked Miss Lambert to tuck her in, promising I’d follow shortly but time slipped away.
As I shut down the laptop and rub my tired eyes, faint giggling reaches me from the kitchen. Over the hum of the laptop, it would have been easy to miss but now I hear it clearly.
I step into the hallway and peek around the corner, expecting to wish Denise and Florence good night.
Instead, I freeze.
Damien sits at the kitchen table, laptop open in front of him.
And beside him giggling uncontrollably, cake crumbs scattered everywhere sits Delphine.